"I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me." Hunter S. Thompson

P.A. Levy

Clipped Wings

thanks to the angelsit’s always spotless in heaventhey do the hooveringand washing-up put things in their proper placeprepare the meals for whenthe saints come marching home

as they dry the dishes the angels blasphemeunder their incense fragrant breaththey discuss what the point of a virgin isthinkfeather boas not wings‘cos it amuses them to turnvirgins into scrubbersfor in their soul they know‘every whore was a virgin once’

to prime them for their future life as angelsthe virgins have to do the laundry there’s no sin to wash awaybut sometimes there’s a shadow of doubtthat needs a damn good scrub

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Welcome to Paraphernalia

This is Paraphernalia Quarterly. If you've made it this far, chances are you know what you've gotten yourself into. This is the rogue's gallery, a place where there is honor among thieves and where the alias is an art form. Within you'll find poetry and prose from back-room card games and back-alley knife-fights, tales of misadventure and odes to girls-gone-wrong. This is a place where street-credit is more important than store-credit, where black-market entrepreneur is a viable occupation. Fights may break out, court dates may be ignored. Good times will be had. If this is what you've come looking for, sit down and pack a bowl. We've got stories to tell.